


Around a cup of tea

by Sylencia



Category: Naruto
Genre: Cute, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Short & Sweet, Tumblr Prompt, how do I even tag this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-09-05 06:38:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16805428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sylencia/pseuds/Sylencia
Summary: Madara can't accept that Tobirama's tea is that bad. But it is, isn't it ?





	Around a cup of tea

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dahtwitchi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dahtwitchi/gifts).



> Prompted on Tumblr by Dahtwitchi
> 
> Sorry for the title and the summary, they're really bad :/

Tobirama’s home always had been a mystery to Madara. Not because he didn’t know where the man lived, the village still was small enough for everyone to know where people lived. Hashirama had emitted the idea to put up names on the front doors to avoid unnecessary mistakes and the idea still was being debated among the council they formed when Konoha was created. Tobirama was dearly against it. Izuna couldn’t stop smirking and Madara knew it meant his brother already had prank ideas about it. Itama was mostly approving it but had his arguments still. Madara hated the idea. It would be like giving enemies indications on where to go to assassinate their targets. Sure, they’d need to go passed the security teams and systems he and Tobirama came up with. But they couldn’t take any risk.

Tobirama’s house was a big thing at the outskirts of the village. Too big for a single man, Madara always said so to his brother, starting when he first saw it and it often made him wonder why would Tobirama need such a big place for himself. That was until Madara first stepped into the house.

It had been a simple thing, at first. With Madara needing a scroll Tobirama had brought home to work on. Tobirama had allowed him in, after he knocked. He had told him to wait because he was working on something important that couldn’t exactly be postponed and as much as he had wanted to argue, Madara had been too tired for it. Arguments with Tobirama were a duel on its own and required a lot of energy. He hadn’t needed that, that day. So he waited.

It didn’t mean he stayed where he had been standing. Madara had grown bored very quickly and, as impolite as it had been, he wandered around the floor, peering through half closed doors and discovering more and more about that way too big house.

It was that day Madara understood why Tobirama needed such a large place. Because his house wasn’t only his home. It doubled as his lab, where he worked, on his free time, on more or less dangerous experiments. Madara learned it the hard way, when he, by mistake, activated a trap Tobirama had been trying to improve. And found himself knocked to the ground, several chains wrapped around his throat and wrists, stopping him from moving. Or breathing.

Thankfully, Tobirama had heard the ruckus and came to the rescue. The snort he emitted made Madara fluster hard, the Uchiha could have done without it, seeing how shameful his current situation had been but, at least, Tobirama was quick to release him and it took Madara a minute or two to catch his breath and for his face to return to its usual color.

Tobirama then offered tea, as he still had to find the scroll. Madara wished he had refused.

It wasn’t that Tobirama’s tea was bad. Madara wasn’t even sure that beverage could ever be called tea to begin with. It was an insult to all teas around the world. It was even a wonder Madara came out alive of that experience, as the taste remained for days, not even fading when he swallowed half a bottle of sake. Madara had tried to tell Tobirama how disgusting it had tasted. Until he saw said man fix himself a cup and sip it without blinking, on his way out of the kitchen to retrieve the scroll.

Which made him wonder if his taste buds hadn’t been damaged by the furious trap Tobirama set him free of that day. Surely, it couldn’t be that bad.

And so, Madara made a habit out of it. The second time he went to Tobirama’s home, he used Hashirama as an excuse, stating the man had disappeared and that he had wondered if he wasn’t hiding around here. The next time, he said he needed a place to hide from one of Izuna’s pranks. The next, that he wanted to talk about that law they had been debating about lately. Each time, Tobirama offered him tea. And every time, it was as disastrous as the first.

Eventually, Madara stopped looking for excuses. Which Tobirama didn’t seem to care about. Every day, around the same hour in the afternoon, he showed up at Tobirama’s home, he didn’t even knock anymore, merely announced himself while he was taking his shoes off so Tobirama would know not to do anything dangerous with his experiments, thinking he’d be alone. He’d sit in the kitchen, waiting for Tobirama to join him and to serve him his infamous tea.

To say he had grown attached to these moments was an understatement. Madara was .. well. He wasn’t stupid. He could see the truth when it was right in front of him and he had grown to enjoy Tobirama’s presence. They could have interesting conversations, when they both remained calm, they were able to spend time together without much of an argument, they even shared some strong ideas when it came to the village and how they should improve it. All in all, it was .. comfortable. Way too comfortable.

Ignoring his growing feelings for Tobirama was impossible. He was a besotted idiot, when it came to the white haired Senju. Because of all these meetings around these disgusting cups of tea, of all these conversations, he had realized that they weren’t too different. They even managed to joke around each other.

Gods, when did he fall for that man to begin with ?

But the tea. The tea was atrocious. It shouldn’t be called that way and as much as Madara had grown to respect Tobirama, to enjoy his presence and even like him, it couldn’t go on like this, he knew. It had to stop before he got poisoned. Or worse.

Today was like every other day. Madara had warned Hashirama that he would be taking his afternoon pause, he walked his way to Tobirama’s home, he didn’t knock before he entered and stated his presence as he was taking his shoes off. Tobirama answered from a nearby room, one Madara would never enter again as it was the one where he had been caught by Tobirama’s experimental trap. Instead, he made his way to the kitchen, sat at the table, eyeing the tea pot with half a sneer. He could smell that Tobirama had prepared his hellish beverage already, it was right there, waiting to take its next victim and the usual victim was him. But he’d endure. Because lately, the ghost of a smile would touch Tobirama’s lips when he poured them cups and Madara was too entranced with it to make him frown again.

One had to endure, to be given small victories, after all.

“I can’t stay long,” Tobirama warned the moment he entered the kitchen, wiping his sweaty forehead and strolling to the stove to grab the teapot. “I’ve ruined that one twice already, can’t let it fail again.”

“What are you working on ?” Madara questioned as Tobirama was pouring them cups, always curious about the man’s experiments. How wouldn’t he be ? Tobirama was smart and creative. It was intriguing and Madara couldn’t help wanting to know more about his experiments. Despite how deadly they could be.

“A new soldier pill,” Tobirama groaned and he downed his cup in one go. “Itama helped me with that one but it’s either too much or has no effect at all.”

Madara was careful when he grabbed his cup and sipped at it. Then he choked.

It was worse. How could it be worse than anything Tobirama ever prepared him before ? How could tea be worse than the most disgusting tea he ever tasted ? It made no sense and yet, here he was, experiencing it that exact moment and he couldn’t even swallow it ! But he couldn’t exactly spit it out either ! How rude would that be !

Madara looked up, the hot liquid sitting on his tongue uncomfortably. He eventually swallowed. Which he promptly regretted, as the taste started to burn its way down his stomach and Madara knew he would never forget that taste ever. And his body wasn’t going to forgive him either. Not with the way it shuddered.

How could something taste that bad ? It made no sense !

“Are you alright ?”

Madara’s eyes watered at the question, as if it was worsening the situation, if it was any possible, he choked again.

“Tobi,” he squeaked, grimacing. “I love you. But I’m never, ever allowing you to make tea for me again.”

There was a silence. A long, meaningful silence and Madara was well aware of the words he pronounced but he couldn’t exactly react. He was experiencing the disgust over Tobirama’s beverage full force now and it was paralyzing his whole body and clouding his mind and judgement. Who cared for the words he said ? He was on the edge of death right now. Should he speak his final words right away ?

Tobirama didn’t answer. He turned around. Left the kitchen and closed the door. Madara heard him walk away, then the sound of his steps stopped and started again, getting closer. He opened the door again, he was quick to make it to the kitchen table.

The quick kiss Tobirama pushed against his lips wasn’t enough to take away the taste. Madara didn’t even think of answering to it, his lips parted in a snarl and his body under the shock of his sip of tea. But he registered it still.

The next one, two days later, after a cup of tea at Madara’s place was way more enjoyable. And tastier as well.


End file.
